Into the Maze
by Weir the Warlock
Summary: The Dark Fellowship rides again! An investigation leads them to an adeventurer's paradise- or doom.
1. Chapter 1

Into the Maze

the Dark Fellowship

Chapter One

The dirt path wound under stunted trees below a perpetually overcast sky. Rain drizzled through a pitiful excuse for a canopy, causing faint ripples in the multitude of small puddles all over the exposed soil.

Saeral looked into one of those puddles. He saw something- another might have assumed it to be a fallen twig and moved on. Instead he tentatively plucked that something and brought it closer to his eye. Saeral had only recently returned to the adventuring life, having spent many years in a more official capacity of his sacred order, but experience returned to confirm he held bones from the ribcage of a humanoid being.

He handed the bones over to the ranger Eliados. Eliados observed the ribs had been chewed on, and recognized the kind of teeth that had done the chewing, "Harpies," he said to the rest of the group. All of them knew the creatures' most dangerous gift; Squire Jezlo removed one of several candles from his pack, from which he began to cut out lumps of wax.

The stunted treeline gave way to an eroded cliff rising high; about halfway up the cliff on a ledge rested a wide nest. From the edge of that nest one of ten harpies peered over to see three humans; ducking her head she caught the attention of her sisters, who looked to see for themselves. As none of the three looked up, the harpies decided they had the element of surprise; in unison they began a haunting song meant to numb the senses of their quarry and leave them incapable of action. When the humans stood dumbfounded the harpies descended upon them eager to rend with tooth and claw.

Only when the harpies got within arm's reach did they realize their error; the old but still strong human at the fore smote down one of the harridans with the maul he held in both hands. At the same time each of the two behind him cut down a harpy apiece with their blades; from within the brush crossbow bolts and arrows struck down two more- while a fireball spell exploded into the air, catching the rest in its blast radius and sending their smoking corpses crashing down. When no more appeared, the humans in sight removed the wax they'd plugged their ears with to defend against the harpy song, as did their allies in the scrub.

Eliados carefully scaled the rock wall to just above the nest; hanging from a piton he rummaged inside and threw what he found to the others below.

Most of the 'loot' the harpies had gathered over time amounted to a few body parts kept as trophies and weapons of less fortunate adventurers but a few rough gems were to be found; Saeral stared down at one such bauble then looked at Jezlo studying some electrum coins of unknown denomination.

Saeral threw down the semiprecious stone in disgust, "Enough! We have wasted too much time on these petty treasure hunts! Need I remind you all what task we were assigned with?"

"Nobody has forgotten anything," answered the wizard Frain, himself holding a tarnished bronze star with a rat's face chiselled onto it, "We're looking for clues just like you- if we collect a little wealth in the search, where's the harm in that?"

"Hey fellows," Eliados called from above as he lowered himself down the rock wall, one hand on the rope whilst the other hand held up a crown crafted from platinum with thirteen gems set inside, "Looks like at some point our feathered fiends here entertained royalty-" hearing a strange sound he looked up- his jaw dropped, the crown fell from his fingers. The others looked in the same direction he did- and beheld the same terrors.

As if it would make any difference Saeral hefted his hammer high, shouting to the others the last word he would ever say- "RUN!"

On reptilian mounts known as croltorm, four riders headed toward the city of Truscia. The rider at the lead wore a handsome human face to hide its true nature to the outside world; behind it a six foot tall insectoid rode alongside a muscled figure with outstretched ears and a bear-like nose, following them a dark-skinned elf in a heavy robe holding in his free hand a staff that used to be some*thing's* thigh bone. They slowed on approaching the gates; two guardsmen, upon seeing the 'human's' companions and readied their halberds to fight, a third emerged from within to address the four. The rider at the lead brought forth and showed him an opened envelope bearing the wax seal of the cathedral of Amaedea. The guardsman's eyes bulged at the thought of such bestial creatures having legitimate business with the church but he merely nodded and bid the halberdiers to let them pass.

The four riders slowly trotted across the city streets; a few passers-by gave them strange looks but otherwise the locals left them alone. Garadon, the doppelganger assuming human form looked around, "The last time I was here was before that wizard imprisoned me in his vault," he reflected, "To look at it nothing seems to have changed."

"You sound surprised," Kezreck, the tall, brutish-looking one behind him said.

"He was trapped there for about two centuries," the elf at the rear pointed out.

The dark elf Shoutanei was the one who had found Garadon at said vault. Fainting from blood loss suffered in combat with human thieves and left for dead; the shape shifter's failure to guard the enchanted armour it was tasked with protecting had driven it mad but had also undone the wizardry that barred it from leaving, even if the magic that kept it from aging somehow remained. After convincing his priestess sister to heal the changeling's shattered mind Shoutanei enlisted its aid in ridding himself of his hated siblings and their soldiers, directing them toward another vault inhabitant that turned out to be more than they could handle. In the days since the two had left that place Garadon, remembering the year of its capture had inquired to humans the-then current date- suffice to say how much time passed between them was a shock.

"See those people there?" Garadon pointed toward a long line composed mostly of humans except a few other humanoids- all of them in faded or low-quality clothing- assembled at the docks, "Those are the city's unemployed, awaiting their ration of grain brought by those ships," he indicated several barges approaching from even farther away.

"Grain for doing nothing?" Kezreck grunted, "They should let the bums starve."

"I suspect the bums would riot before they starve," Shoutanei guessed.

Finally the four found the cathedral that had contacted them. The captain of the temple's security recognized them and led the group to the high priest's chamber, albeit with a nasty scowl on his face the whole time.

As they sat the high priest addressed them, "Thank you for coming. On occasion I have spoken with King Alsadar IV; he has spoken highly- well, perhaps not highly- but he has affirmed you four did achieve results."

The second and to date the last time the human king had met with the four was to pay them for bringing in a company of surface dwelling adventures that had succumbed to lycanthropy. At the time Alsadar had convinced himself the werewolves were still noble souls whose condition drove them to savagery against their will- only when the four finally brought them in did he learn how far they truly fell. It was said during their trial the former werewolves contended to have done their bloody deeds under 'dark elf bewitchment'- their subsequent hanging and the fact no one came after the four seeking retribution suggested they had not been all that convincing in their claims.

The high priest continued, "Some centuries ago the celestial Sophiel took on a task for our lord"- he gestured to a stained glass pane showing two hands extending from a cloud- "But never returned to his grace.

"Occasionally in the years since, those of our faithful set out in the hope of discovering Sophiel's fate and perhaps delivering him from it- why we sent for you concerns the most recent of these expeditions."

"Not to sound rude to potential employers," Kezreck started, "But if this Sophiel's fellow angels couldn't find him and bring him home, what chance do a few priests got at pulling it off?"

"Indeed," the temple captain spoke up, "However, unlike those before them who amounted to little more than chasing their own tails, these seemed to actually get somewhere- in their last report they heard of something called 'the Maze'- whatever this maze was, it involved Sophiel somehow, they were certain."

"Their last report?" Shoutanei inquired.

The high priest held up a medallion etched with the church's symbol- identical to the wax seal on the missive he had sent to the four, "Our clerics- and the adventurers hired to provide them assistance that could not be found here- kept in touch with us through these medallions; they function in a matter similar to sending stones. We heard from them at regular intervals at first, but it has been over two weeks since their last communication."

"Seems to me these guys are dead," Kezreck speaking up again, not seeming to notice the dirty looks his companions gave him for his absence of tact, "But you don't think it's that simple- do you?"

"We regularly commune with our lord," the high priest started to answer, "If our faithful had fallen and gone to their reward we would have learned as much - they have not. So either they still live-"

"Or they have fallen and something has barred their souls from reaching this paradise," Shoutanei deduced, "If not worse."

The high priest solemnly nodded, "That is why we have sent for you, we would hire you to learn of their fate and if possible, rescue them- one way or another."

At that point the high priest and the four negotiated. A fee for knowledge of what befell these faithful was agreed upon; following Alsadar IV's example the high priest offered higher pay as an incentive to either bring back the missing clerics and their cohorts alive or help their souls return to the welcoming arms of their deity. The temple captain provided a map leading to where the clerics had last reported from, a starting point for any investigation.

Finally the high priest gave the four the medallion, "Show this to our faithful and they will know we had sent you to deliver them."

"Or they'll think we killed one of your priests and stole it," Kezreck quipped.

The temple captain glowered but the high priest did not, "Because I give this to you willingly you are safe- you would not like to learn how it punishes thieves."

With that the four left the cathedral; after briefly stopping at the market for whatever supplies they might need they rode away from the city, in the direction of this mysterious 'maze'.

At first the search was unproductive; the area they came upon was unsettled except for a few farming villages and few of their inhabitants would willingly talk to a man travelling with a drow, bugbear and whatever they thought Path-Chak to be. Even fewer had heard anything about missing clerics or any maze.

After getting nowhere asking the local humans Kezreck suggested the four seek answers from an alternate source. Tethering their mounts near a dirt road the bugbear crept carefully into the brush with his companions following.

Before them rose a hill, its summit crowned with the ruins of some forgotten structure; to Garadon it was vaguely reminiscent of the remains above the vault Shoutanei had rescued him from. Kezreck pointed out faint paths up the hill- and the concealed entrances into it, likely dug by his smaller goblin cousins.

Not too long after a hunting party of the creatures emerged from one of the concealed entrances, five goblins wielding crude bows, with rusty knives on their belts. They headed into the forest, unaware that the four was tailing them.

When both groups had gotten far enough from the hill that the rest of the goblin tribe would hear any sounds of distress Shoutanei preformed a sleep spell, dropping all five of the runts. As the induced slumber would only last a minute the drow's companions moved quickly to disarm the goblins and bind them hand and feet. The humanoids awoke shortly after, shifting from confusion to fear and then rage in record time.

"Now there you runts," Kezreck addressed them in their native tongue while raising his mace, "We didn't come here for a fight…"

"Answer our questions and we will release you unharmed," Shoutanei promised them- also in the goblin language.

"Yeah that's ri-" Kezreck turned to the wizard and said- this time in common, "Hold up- you speak goblin?"

"We tried to teach our slaves to speak drow," Shoutanei explained, "But the goblins could never get some of the sounds right."

Kezreck speculated those slaves bungled the dark elf speech on purpose but that was beside the point; turning back to his puny cousins he spoke, "Some humans might have come around here- looking for someplace called the maze- you runts know anything about it?"

The goblins looked to each other, then eventually admitted none of them had encountered any humans, however they might know where they went. Some distance from their home was a hill with a tunnel complex dug into it presumably by the 'big folk'- according to their tribe's previous generations humanoids occasionally seeking a place known as 'the maze' sought it out- but they knew of none that ever returned from it- the goblins themselves considered this reason enough not to go poking around there. They gave the four directions to this hill; Garadon cut one of the goblins loose and handed the creature back his knife. The four departed as that goblin set about freeing his comrades.

The goblin's directions led the four to a hill with a gaping cave entrance; past it one winding, main tunnel descended, with the occasional smaller passage branching to dens that may have once been home to other creatures, though all were unoccupied at the present. The main tunnel led into a large chamber, empty except for a door frame in the centre of the room. Only the frame stood, it had no door or any hinges to suggest one might have existed in the past.

The four looked upon this frame nervously; it seemed a little too innocuous, especially- if the goblins spoke true- no adventurers had returned from the tunnel that led to the chamber in which it stood.

"We should have brought one of those goblins with us," Kezreck commented, "Thrown him though the frame and see if anything happened."

"Indeed," Shoutanei inwardly felt dismayed at not thinking of the suggestion when they had the creatures bound but Kezreck's musing did give him an idea, looking to Garadon he suggested, "Shoot an arrow through it."

Garadon complied, the projectile soared through the frame and bit into the dirt wall on the other side, with no obvious effect on it. Feeling a little disappointed, the thief stepped toward the frame to retrieve his arrow- and vanished entirely on crossing its threshold!

His companions reacted with shock. "Garadon?" Shouatanei called out for his comrade, "Garadon!" Lifting his mace high, Kezreck lunged toward the doorframe before the others could stop him- he too disappeared.

Shoutanei and Path-Chak locked eyes- one hoping the other had an idea; finally the drow gazed back at the frame, "I never thought I do something this stupid," he said, then stepped toward the frame, the thri-kreen following behind…


	2. Chapter 2

Into the Maze

The Dark Fellowship

Chapter Two

Following their companions into wherever they vanished, Shoutanei and Path-Chak stepped through the freestanding doorframe- and found themselves suddenly standing in what looked like an ordinary town on the surface world, both Garadon and Kezreck standing before them apparently unharmed and looking just as confused as they were.

Shoutanei whirled around to look behind him- the mysterious doorframe was nowhere in sight. The sound of flapping wings overhead caused the four to look up, but they only saw a dark sky- without a visible moon or even stars.

"Greetings," the four jumped at the sound of her, tense and confused as they were; they turned to face a comely woman wearing a warm smile, "Welcome to the Maze," she continued, "If there is anyway I can help make your stay here more comfortable, please don't hesitate to ask."

The four looked from her to each other, then Shoutanei faced the woman again, "We have come a long way, and would appreciate if you could direct us to a place we could find rest…"

The woman nodded, "We have many inns at the lodging district," to which she pointed, "However for your needs I would recommend a place called the Roasted Gnome- you may find it the most welcoming for the more- unusual visitors such as yourselves," with that, she headed toward a party of humanoids that seemed to appear in a manner not unlike the four did.

Once she moved on Shoutanei, using the drow sign language he had taught the other three, asked Garadon what her thoughts were while she spoke to her. Garadon replied he could not sense what she was thinking- in fact he could not sense the thoughts of anyone around, even his companions- it was like trying to see through a thick fog- perhaps a rather appropriate comparison, considering the haze that seemed to hang in the air. Path-Chak informed them through his gestures his telepathic abilities seemed somehow suppressed- this was a problem as Nak'Cha'Dok could not grant divine magic through drow signage.

Bereft of a game plan Shoutanei suggested they seek this place called the Roasted Gnome, if only to rest and figure things out from there.

The inn was easy enough to locate due to the gruesome image painted on the wooden sign. Looking about as they entered, a group of duergar- known to most people as grey dwarves huddled around their table trying to ignore everyone, whilst an armoured troll bearing a sword on his back looked their way and lifted up a beaten bronze goblet in salute. All in all, a surprisingly well-mannered clientele, considering their parentages.

Shoutanei knocked on the bar with his fingers. The innkeeper- a grey-skinned, ratty haired humanoid with pupil-less eyes approached on a pair of stilts, as his arms and legs were as short and scrawny as his frame. Looking upon the four said innkeeper- of a race Shoutanei recognized as derro, greeted them with a smile, "Welcome to the Roasted Gnome. You may be pleased to hear we have more than enough vacancies for the four of you," he looked to Shoutanei specifically, "We also have fine bottles of drow mushroom wine."

Kezreck's ears picked up at the mention of an intoxicant he hadn't had the chance to taste yet, however Shoutanei cared little for what was an unwelcome reminder of his underdark life. The wizard held up the medallion supplied by the cathedral and asked, "Any chance you know of humans wearing medallions looking like this come around here?"

The innkeeper examined the medallion before answering, "Doesn't look like something the kind of humans this place caters to would wear- however if they come to the maze, I imagine they did so for the same reason you did."

Curious at whatever assumptions the derro might have made concerning their arrival Shoutanei asked, "And what reason do you think that would be?"

The innkeeper looked surprised, "Why- the archways, of course. People from all over many worlds come here to seek their fortunes in the paths they lead to."

Shoutanei signed their names in the guest book and paid up front for a room with four medium sized beds; as the innkeeper moved on to other patrons the four looked to each other, wondering about these archways- and why clerics seeking to rescue an imprisoned angel would be led here.

The following day- as close to such as the four could determine, since the town someone endured without a rising or descending sun to mark the passage of time- they stood before one of the many arches that form a ring circling the entire community. From what they could gather by asking others who found their way to this place each of these led to places where treasure in gold, gems and magic could be found- though usually guarded by powerful protectors. An arch need not led to the same place twice; many would shift to another path once explorers returned from plundering them- though many such treasure seekers never came back.

What unnerved Shoutanei the most was when he asked how successful adventurers returned to their worlds of origin with the loot they acquired- no one seemed to know of anybody that managed to do so; the fortune hunters simply returned from one arch to head into another until they failed to return at all.

Spooked but unsure of any other way to proceed, the four headed through the arch. They found themselves in a desert canyon under a blazing sun; the path under their feet rose and twisted to a cave in the cliffside. They'd gone about ten feet into the cave when five large dogs with burning red eyes confronted them- and three more appeared behind, cutting off any escape. The pack's leader belched a short burst of fire before it and its brethren attacked.

Kezreck sat on the sandstone floor as Path-Chak applied balm to the bugbear's burns- the best the thri-kreen could do as he was somehow still cut off from his deity. Garadon stepped over the bodies of the fallen hell hounds to sift through the pile of bones from the pack's previous victims; finding not much in the way of 'treasure' aside from three masterwork swords that might fetch a good price from a successful weapon smith.

The next day another arch led through a winding forest trail to a keep atop a hill. Expecting trouble at the front door they came in through a window on the top level courtesy of Garadon's grappling hook and rope. The fort's interior housed many snares and traps that even an infiltrator of Garadon's skill found challenging to detect and disarm; in time the four made their way into the main hall where awaited several brutish humanoid thugs surrounding a throne on which sat a figure with membranous wings and short horns on his forehead. The fiend on the throne chuckled as his guards drew their weapons.

When the dust had settled the thugs lay fallen and their cambion master sat limp in his throne, pinned to it by three of Garadon's arrows. Aside from what possessions their slain enemies had on them, the four found a vault beneath the throne; only one chest was inside yet was so full of coin it took the combined strength of both Kezreck and Path-Chak to carry it back to the town.

They found that many inns including the Roasted Gnome provided another service in addition to lodgings, in the inn's basement were multiple lockers for storage of spoils recovered from the archways. As they brought in the chest and locked it up Shoutanei asked the innkeeper what happened to the contents of lockers set for guests who never returned from an arch. The derro told him he inspected the lockers regularly, and that when a party failed to return from an arch he'd find their locker somehow emptied but with no evidence of intrusion- in fact earlier in the day a locker claimed by a troll named Aarkh was found so.

As their original task the four went about town inquiring about visitors wearing medallions like the one they brought, but no one had answers for them.

The following morning the four heard talk of an archway from which no one in recent days had come back from; deciding it was likely their best bet to find the clerics they headed into it. It started out innocently enough, a trail through rather pleasant forest. Small strands of spider silk were visible along the path; they gradually grew thicker and longer, with increasingly larger arachnids to match. Soon the forest gave way entirely to tunnels of web, some branching into lairs of giant spiders the size of horses if not bigger; though the four kept their distance from these. Finally the trail terminated in what appeared as a vast air pocket in a colossal mass of web- the roof of it too high up to see, yet reaching down from it dangled many human-sized cocoons of silk.

Rushing toward the web bundles they cut them open. Sure enough they held the dead bodies of previous adventurers preserved for an arachnid's later meals. None of the bodies they unearthed wore medallions of those the four sought however a wizard among them was wrapped up with a well crafted staff; clutching it hand and casting an identify spell Shoutanei looked on the discovery in awe- until an impact from behind nearly knocked all four to their feet.

Blocking the exit from the tunnel was a tarantula of such size it put a dragon the four once fought to shame- and it was hungry. Garadon aimed for its eyes; the creature closed its eyelids and the arrows broke upon hitting them. Shoutanei hurled lightning toward the spider, it backed a bit but then came forward with no apparent pain or injury.

Shoutanei passed the dead wizard's staff to Kezreck yelling "Throw this at its legs!" Having learned from experience the drow usually knew what he was talking about Kezreck hurled the staff toward their mutual enemy. It landed on the web just as one of the spider's legs touched down- breaking the staff in two.

The explosion that resulted made the spider skitter away, turning to reveal a smoking gap in its carapace where an middle leg once extended from; more of Garadon's arrows followed by a fireball cast by Shoutanei entered this newly made chink in its armour. Seconds after the fireball's detonation the spider crashed to the web floor from which it would never get back up.

"Yeah!" Kezreck yelled once it was obvious the spider was dead, "That's what you get for thinking you could eat us!" then remembering something he looked to Shoutanei, "Sorry about your new toy," he said rather sheepishly.

"It would be of little use to me if I was dead," the always pragmatic Shoutanei pointed out, "I suggest we leave this place - that thing might have a family."

Back at the inn and in dire need of strong drink, even Shoutanei welcomed the bottle of mushroom wine the innkeeper brought to their table. Kezreck bit down on the cork and twisted his neck to pull it free.

The bugbear brought the bottle to his lips when Shoutanei grabbed his muscular wrist and pulled it down.

"You don't just guzzle mushroom wine right away," the drow explained, "You give it a moment to breathe first." Kezreck looked at him strangely- even he knew wine bottles didn't have lungs- but humoured the wizard and waited.

The four finished the bottle fairly quickly and called for another when a voice called for their attention; behind them stood a rather meek-looking human who held up a medallion that was a dead ringer for the one they had brought with them into this strange place.

The four leapt to their feet, Garadon started to ask a question but the human hushed him, "The walls in these inns have ears- follow me." The four were suspicious, but ran after the man.

The human, who identified himself as Orton, led them through the streets toward a simple looking structure- "My temple to Fharlanghn," he explained, "I built it when I first came to the maze, in my young and foolish days. Unfortunately it's not easy to commune with him here, most of the locals treat the place like a joke- but the advantage is it's a good place to avoid unwanted attention- and I assure you, the questions you have been asking attract attention most unwanted."

With that, the humble Orton ushered the four inside…


	3. Chapter 3

**Into the Maze**

 **The Dark Fellowship**

 **Chapter Three**

Orton led the four inside. Awaiting them in the temple was a male human- young but shaken. Upon seeing the four he jumped to his feet as if to run but Orton came forward to calm him, "It's all right, they are here to help," handing the boy back his medallion the cleric then turned to his new guests, "This is Jezlo, the last of those you seek."

Jezlo looked at the four skeptically, then saw Shoutanei hold a medallion identical to the one he bore, "Not the rescue party I imagined they'd send- but then again it's not like it makes much of a difference," the squire grimaced; looking back to them he asked "Any of you four a cleric?"

Kezreck pointed a thumb back at Path-Chak, "He is, but lately he seems to be having trouble getting through to-" looking back to the thri-kreen he asked, "What is it you call that bug god of yours again?"

"I figured as much," Jezlo shook his head, "We could not reach our lord either; as far as I know none of the priests unlucky enough to end up here can- and I'm quite sure that's how the real masters of this place want it."

Shoutanei raised a brow at that statement, "And who are they?"

"Demons!" Jezlo shouted, then with an abashed look on his face began to speak more quietly, "Those archways surrounding the town, you've explored some of them already, haven't you?"

"Sure," Kezreck started, "They led to some fights, but we got some good loot out of them afterwards."

"What, those little treasures left there?" Jezlo snapped, "Those aren't rewards, they're bait! Like when poachers leave a basket of apples to lure in deer- only in this place the poachers aren't interested in a rack of antlers- they want souls!"

Somewhere else Shoutanei would have written off the squire as a ranting fool; here he wasn't so certain, "Go on," the dark elf prodded.

"We set out to find Sophiel," Jezlo began, "An angel who'd been missing for centuries. Parties before us had never gotten anywhere but Frain- the wizard we'd hired on to help in the search, he found some obscure lore connecting his disappearance to a place only referred to as 'the Maze'. So sure we finally found a solid lead we blundered headfirst into this town- only to find out we couldn't go back.

"One of us- doesn't really matter who, now- suggested while we figure out our next move we check out the archways; kill a few nasties, line our pockets a little. At first they were easy pickings, guarded by nothing we couldn't handle- but each treasure lay a little bit farther from the archways, farther from the town behind them. The last one we explored led to a nest of harpies; once we dealt with them- that was when the bastards finally showed themselves."

"The demons you spoke of earlier?" Shoutanei assumed.

Jezlo nodded, "They jumped us at the worst moment. Elaidos was hanging by a rope from the cliff- no way he could've defended himself in that position. Our leader Saeral actually tried to hold the bastards back. I saw Frain and another- Westra, maybe- get tackled by some huge toad-thing, and another was hot on my heels.

"That's the strange part- that freak had me, but when I had gotten maybe ten feet to the archway, it stopped. I remember looking back as I ran- it looked terrified."

"What, he was afraid of the arch?" Kezreck asked, "That doesn't make sense."

"Maybe it does," Shoutanei countered, "If what he says is true a fiend rampaging through the town in pursuit of an adventurer would be noticed- such sight could potentially expose the whole operation."

"A demon who risked doing so would probably be badly punished," Garadon added.

"When I first found Jezlo," Orton finally spoke up, "He was trying to warn others of the danger. It was a good thing I found him when I did- few who learn the true nature of the Maze last long, especially when they try to pass that truth on."

Kezreck broke the silence that followed, "There's got to be a way out right? I mean this was a nice place to visit, at least until it turned out to be a game preserve for souls, but I really don't like the idea of having to live here."

"If such an escape does exist," Orton said, "You must seek it discreetly."

"And find it quickly," Jezlo added, "If you hope to get home before the days of rage and poison have a chance to occur."

"What are the days of- don't answer that!" Garadon decided he already knew more than he wanted to.

Again a silence hung in the air; this time Shoutanei broke it, "Sophiel- he's connected to this place somehow. We figure out what happened to him, maybe that can help us figure out a way to get home."

Everyone else in the temple looked unconvinced, yet bereft of solutions themselves they finally nodded; Kezreck asking, "All right, only where do we start looking?"

Something occurred to Orton, "Actually, I might know of a possibility," then began to give a set of directions.

A tangle of vines covered the archway; Garadon and Path-Chak cut them down to discover the portal partially bricked up. Orton claimed this was one of the oldest archways never to have where they led to changed; that the last party he knew of to explore it came back with no material wealth yet had learned much about the planes-they also described getting the information like 'pulling teeth from a live dragon'.

There was left barely room for Shoutanei to squeeze through sideways; Kezreck smashed aside enough bricks with his mace to accommodate their passing.

They walked across a trail whose flat surface reflected like a mirror, taking them through a dark void occasionally lit up by bright auroras or globes of fire around which smaller spheres spun around- some of which, if one looked close enough, had even tinier orbs revolving around them. Eventually the trail led toward and into a massive sphere of rock; the walls of the passage into it the colour of brown stone at first, they abruptly changed to a bright orange glow.

The trail seemed to finally terminate leading into a plaza that once may have been grand, though time had taken a harsh toll. It was floored with tiny stone tiles like those in a mosaic, though whatever picture they once formed had long faded. In the center stood a copper fountain from which no water emerged; its rusted green frame surrounded by a ring of brown sludge. The four thought whatever once might have called this place home surely abandoned it long ago- at least until four canines emerged.

At first they thought to have stumbled upon another pack of hellhounds, the memory of what lay past their first archway still fresh in their minds. Yet instead of belching fire and attacking the hounds reared up on their hind legs; suddenly their dog-like heads rested on the shoulders of muscular humanoid bodies wearing tarnished breastplates and likely equally tarnished claymores slung across their backs. Three of these turned around and walked the way they came; the last motioned the party to follow before he did likewise.

The party followed the canine beings into a receiving chamber as weathered and worn as the plaza. On a massive chaise lounge in the center rested an angelic being looking not as celestial as most imagined- a slight paunch on his otherwise chiselled body, his silvery skin sporting blemishes, the feathered wings folded behind his back darkening from white to black. As he guzzled wine from the bottle he held in one hand a feminine version of the dog-men fanned him with a broad leaf while between drinks another handfed him olives from a dish that somehow automatically replenished itself.

It seemed to take a while for this being to register the appearance of visitors; when he finally realized he had company he looked upon the adventurers with an amused smile.

Kezreck went out on a limb and said, "Sophiel?"

The slovenly celestial laughed long and hard at this; eventually he stopped and began to speak, "Me- Sophiel? No, my name is Hazekiah, and you've already met my fellow fallen hound archons. Certain so-called higher powers once decided we no longer rose to their lofty standards- but the fiends don't feel we've sunk enough to meet theirs, so we made our home here, such as it is."

"But you know where Sophiel is-" Shoutanei prodded, "You know his connection to the Maze, do you not?"

"I might," Hazekiah mused, "What's in it for me if I tell?"

The party paused on this, wondering what they had to offer a slightly fallen deva. Not at his most inspired Kezreck blurted out, "We got a chest holding maybe 10,000 gold pieces," then he felt his friends' glaring eyes upon him.

Offended by such a crass bribe Hazekiah glowered, "Away with you."

As he took another swig from his everlasting wine bottle the four male hound archons moved to eject the party from his sight; Kezreck snarled, "You mutts don't scare us any more than that big-ass spider we killed-"

Hazekiah spat the liquid from his mouth, "You killed the Devourer of Souls?" suddenly he seemed to have forgotten the insult altogether, "She was one of Lolth's prize pets," laughing as he named the demon goddess who ruled over dark elf society Hazekiah fixed his eyes on Shoutanei, "If she learns the likes of you was involved-"

"I have no doubt I damned myself in the eyes of the spider bitch long before we encountered her not so little pet," Shoutanei stated, "And I find it most unlikely she has not already judged my companions guilty just by their association with myself."

"Yeah," Kezreck thumped his chest once; then upon digesting what Shoutanei actually said he glared at the wizard asking "Hold up- what?"

Hazekiah sat up on his haunches leaning toward his guests, "Really- you wondered what I want? Action- intrigue. Nothing happens in this place, I've been bored out of my skull for decades! Surely from what I've heard so far you have great tales to tell."

"What's in it for us?" Shoutanei parroted back.

With an expression of extreme annoyance Hazekiah finally relented, "Fine. Sophiel- what do you want to know about him?"

"What's his connection to the Maze?" Shoutanei impatiently spat, "Can he help us escape from it back to our world?"

"His connection? The Maze is Sophiel's brainchild," Hazekiah gulped down a swig of wine before elaborating, "Well, not exactly- from what I've divined his demon captors keep him bound on some other plane, keep him drugged, and they're able to somehow influence his dreams while they do so. The town, the paths beyond the archways- they're all formed from the dreamstuff of a sedated Solar. The one in charge of the operation- I believe he's called Marruzat- sometimes he invites other demons to hunt on his little soul preserve, sometimes they bribe him for the privilege- though I'd hope with nothing as crass as gold coins."

"I suppose it would be too much to hope you know of a way to reach this slumbering angel, let alone wake him?" Shoutanei sorrowfully asked.

"Yes- however I may be able to direct you to someone who could…" Hazekiah smirked. As it was obvious he would say no more until indulged himself Garadon stepped up to tell the tale of how the four came together on their quest to blunder the legendary hatori burial mounds. Hazekiah was bored by hearing of the search for gaudy gems but battles fought along the way were a different matter; when hearing particularly of the clash between the genie and the huge dragon he seemed downright enraptured.

As Garadon finished Hazekiah looked sullen but he reciprocated, "Marruzat doesn't walk the town streets but his underlings do- disguised as mortals, of course. One of them should be easy enough to find; in fact, I'd be surprised if you four haven't bumped into her already."

The four looked to each other wondering what he meant; Garadon figured it out first, "The woman who greeted us when we showed up."

"Succubus, actually," Hazekiah corrected, "I believe her friends- as close as such a being can have to friends- know her as Faith-Denied. Call her by that she should realize the jig is up. Of course that's no guarantee she'll cooperate but then," he twisted his expression into a grotesque leer, "There are ways to make a succubus talk."

With that it was obvious Hazekiah considered his audience with the party over; while they might be able to defeat the hound archons between themselves and him they knew better than to think such a bout would leave them in any shape to defeat an enraged deva, let alone coerce any more details out of him. They left.

Upon returning to the town the four discussed their nest move using the sign language of the dark elves Shoutanei had taught the others as a way to share information it would not do for outsiders to overhear.

"When he said there were ways to make a-," Kezreck paused; drow signage was complex and Shoutanei had yet to teach the proper gestures for incubus or succubus "You know- talk, did he mean what I think he meant?"

"Even if he did I would advise against it," Shoutanei answered, "Such beings can drain the life from someone during such intimate acts of they choose. In my Underdark days I saw the withered husks of more than one cocky drow male who thought his physical prowess would give them a reason not to."

"A fate to be avoided if possible," Garadon agreed, "But one of us might have to risk it, unless any of you happen to have a better idea."

Shoutanei wracked his memory, sure he had heard of an entity called Faith-Denied somewhere before Hazekiah- he finally recalled not only from where, but also a more obscure- and potentially more useful fact from the same source.

"I actually do have another idea," He signalled to his companions, "Though whether it's a better one is… debatable."

First they went to the weaponsmith who purchased the swords they recovered from the hellhounds' den and bought back one of those blades, which they armed Jezlo with on returning to Orton's temple. Hearing what Shoutanei had in mind the aged cleric protested bringing the squire along on their 'fool's errand' but the party had no intention of returning to their world only to tell the church that hired them they left a survivor behind- besides, Orton had something far worse to complain about now…

Standing beside Garadon, Kezreck and Path-Chak, Orton and Jezlon watched aghast as Shoutanei marked the summoning circle on the floor of Orton's temple. At first the wizard was unsure to preform the summoning in Abyssal or Infernal, as succubae were said to serve devils and demons alike. As everything they had found out said the Maze was run by and created to serve demons, he finally decided on Abyssal.

"I can't believe I'm allowing this blasphemy to occur in my temple," Orton grieved.

"You could try to stop it," Kezreck raised his mace threateningly.

"Kezreck, lower that thing before you put an eye out," Garadon spat before turning to the cleric, "This is the one place where the demons are most likely to ignore what is being done, it has to be here. Let us work and soon we'll be gone- and we're willing to take you away from here."

"I'm not from your world," Orton pointed out, "And my god would be a stranger there."

"So you'll have a lot of heathens to convert," the doppelganger countered, "In any case do you really want to still be here when Marruzat figures out where this all went down?"

Orton conceded he did not.

The markings done, Shoutnaei stepped outside the circle; rising to his feet, arms outstretched, he began to chant in a language never meant to issue from mortal throats. The markings inside the ring gave an eerie green glow. When Shoutanei's chants ended a bright flash erupted from within the circle's interior followed by the stink of sulphur; within the ring stood the comely female who had greeted the four on their arrival, though her form now sported claws, leathery wings and a whiplike tail- and the friendly smile of before had stepped aside for pure rage.

"How dare you do this to me!" Faith-Denied shrieked, "And where did a pointy-eared, cavern-hiding worm such as you ever learn my true name?"

"One of many things I learned under the tutelage of Malyagr Vrinn- do you recall him?"

Faith-Denied almost spat a denial, but then it came back- once she approached a young drow by that name with the intent to seduce then drain him- only somehow he had already learned her true name. At the time she'd been grateful he only used the knowledge to command her never to seek him out again; she never thought he'd teach it to others, "But that had to have been centuries ago!" she screamed.

"Malygar was a stubborn bastard who never forgot anything," Shoutanei shrugged, "But I didn't bring you here to reminisce. We are going back to our world of origin, and you are going to help us."

Hearing this Faith-Denied's tactics changed; her anger appearing to fade she suddenly started to act coy, "That's all? You could have simply asked, told me where this world-"

"I doubt Marruzat would want escape to from here to be so easy, even if he could trust you not to make deals with adventurers behind his back," Shoutanei saw through her performance and was having none of it, "No, I'm betting there is but one way out of the Maze and that is the way you are able go to and from your master's home plane- wherever that may be."

"His home plane?" Orton screeched, "If I didn't think you mad before, I do now."

"His home plane- that has to be where Sophiel is held captive," Jezlo interrupted, "We could find a way to rescue him-"

"I should have think this place-" Shoutanei glared at the youth, "Would have taught you the dangers of getting too greedy, boy. Worry about getting back to your precious cathedral first; then you can tell your order where Sophiel is and they can trust his rescue to celestial, more competent hands," even as he said it, Shoutanei somehow felt Marruzat had ways to frustrate such an extraction even if an army of angels broke down his door; turning back to Faith-Denied and asked, "Well?"

"You are correct about one thing," Faith-Denied started to answer, "Marruzat has taken steps to thwart efforts to leave the Maze- or even to enter it except for the portals he has placed for the task. There does exist a method of entry and exit for his servants- but it is a portal that leads directly to his palace and nowhere else- you really think you can reach your world from there?"

"Perhaps not, but if we don't make the attempt we will be stranded in this town until old age claims us- and perhaps Marruzat as well anyway," Shoutanei leaned forward, his eyes resolute, "Now where is this portal?"

The party, along with Jezlo and Orton followed Faith-Denied closely, as she led them from the temple to the wide well in the town's center; grabbing her shoulder Kezreck pulled the succubus toward him and growled in her ear, "Seriously?"

"It's called hiding in plain sight," she hissed back, "Did any of you think to look at the well?" Do you see any of the people gathering water from it paying attention to anything other than their work?" She approached the well, climbing into a 'bucket' wide and deep enough to carry all seven of them; as they claimed inside Shoutanei looked around and sure enough, no one so much as glanced their way.

Faith Denied pulled on a rope connected to an elaborate pulley system, lowering the bucket into the well. At first the others feared the portal to be under the waterline; glancing over Shoutanei barely saw something marked onto the curved inner wall of the well just above the water, but could make out little details in the inch of space between the brick and the bucket. When they were low enough for the markings to be visible he was horrified to see a circle similar to the one he used to summon Faith-Denied!

Before he could say anything it was too late. once they were in line with the circle all seven of them suddenly found themselves transported elsewhere. Standing on a stone floor, a bright light shining down from above surrounded them. The blackness beyond it was impenetrable even to the four gifted with darkvision but all could see glowing red eyes around them; many sets of eyes, from varying heights at not all merely two a set. From the blackness also came sounds- growls, hissing, but mostly cold, cruel laughter.

A figure whose red eyes burned from much higher than the rest stepped into the light- a massive winged beast that could only be Marruzat. He bore no weapons but only an imperceptible dullard would think he needed any to be dangerous.

"Did you truly think," the balor said not with anger, but what sounded like genuine amusement, "I would not notice the abrupt summoning of one of my most active servants? "That I would not be ready for you?"

Faith-Denied threw herself at his scaly feet, "Great one, I had no choice- they used my true name against me…"

"I know little one, I know," Marruzat spoke in a gentle tone as he stroked her hair, "but you're home now, and no one shall subject you to such humiliation ever again."

At that he clenched his meaty fist around her skull; lifting the succubus up he snapped his jaws around her and swallowed her whole. Only then did Marruzat look to the rest.

"I suppose another demon lord would kill the lost of you and be done with it," the balor mused, "But I have watched the actions of some of you," He stared Shoutanei in the eye, "The way you sent your siblings to their deaths, the scrolls you still hold despite knowing the destruction they are capable of," he shifted his gaze to Garadon and Kezreck, "That you two helped him in the theft that imperiled an entire city to succeed in your treasure hunt. No- killing you here and now would only be a waste of potential.

"So instead I make an offer, I will send you to your world, with the boy- in fact to sweeten the offer I will free those that came with him, and all I want in return is that you spread tales of the Maze and how to reach it as far and wide as possible."

Orton, whom Marruzat would have been happy to overlook, yelled out in protest, "You would release a few souls just for them to send many more into your grasp? Even if this offer is genuine, it is a wretched bargain to make."

"Yes," Marruzat snarled as he glared the cleric's way, "But then you are not really necessary to the equation are you?" A pillar of fire crashed down upon Orton, immolating the cleric; Jezlo and even the dark fellowship, hardened as they were looked on in shock. As they turned back to the balor, Marruzat smiled and asked in a pleasant tone, "Now then- do we have a deal?"

Three days later Shoutanei, Path-Chak and Kezreck brought a traumatized but living Jezlo to the cathedral in Truscia. Two temple guards took the youth to the infirmary; their captain motioned to the high priest and his clerics dancing around the altar.

"Been doing that for more than two days now," the captain said to the three, "Since a deva reached out to them saying Jezlo was alive and the spirits of the others had somehow made it to our lord's bosom.

"I don't know how you did it, and I strongly suspect I don't want to know; all the same you did come through." With a motion of his arm more temple guards approached hefting two bulging saddlebags which they dropped at the drow's feet before turning back. Shoutanei and Kezreck crouched to inspect the contents of the saddlebags; seeing they had been paid in full they looked to each other and grinned.

Disgusted by their materialistic outlook the captain admonished them, "They're just colored rocks and pieces of yellow metal."

"And yet his temple has many of both to trade," Kezreck signed to his companions; the captain saw the gestures and deduced the bugbear had said something, but decided against demanding what it was.

The sound of footsteps announced the approach of the high priest, "Words cannot express how grateful our church is to the f-" he froze, seeing the party he hired was apparently absent one member.

"Don't get your hopes up," Shoutanei was in no mood to suffer what he assumed would be false pity, "We all made it back, one of us simply had commitments elsewhere."

At that moment in a tavern in another city, Garadon bought another round for everyone in the house, paying for them with some of the coin he and his comrades had managed to take with them back from their recent escapade. Most of the pieces were stamped in a variety of ways, all but a few unfamiliar to the barkeep yet he accepted them anyway, gold was gold, after all.

As expected the throng of fortune seekers, sellswords and wanderers called out to hear the source of this sudden wealth; standing on top of a table in the center of the room Garadon cleared his throat and started a speech he had prepared for this crowd's (dubious) benefit "There's far more where these came from, and ripe for the plucking- let me tell you of a place called the Maze…"


End file.
